Sunday, October 21, 2012

Singleness. I love it. No, seriously.


This is a random topic for me because I do not often talk about it but today is different for some reason. I think it has a lot to do with certain people interrogating me about dating habits or giving me unwarranted advice or "introducing" me to someone. It's hard not to think about it.


I know that I do not have much knowledge or experience the relationship department but I think that I have become somewhat of a promoter of being single. Like if singleness had a PR position open, I would apply for it. 

I enjoy being single. I enjoy the freedom that I have. I love going and coming whenever I want. I have accomplished so many things and have had so many great experiences that I would never want to take back.  I think being single in my 20s is a wonderful decision that I made. That's all. No buts. I just love it. It's when the relationship part becomes a possible reality that has me frazzled sometimes.

I have had many examples of wonderful marriages/relationships that are Chris-centered, loving, and genuinely fun. Everyone knows those couples that you do not mind being around. You actually like hanging out with the two of them because it never feels awkward. I love those marriages/relationships. 

They are wonderful. 

They are inspiring. 

They are a gift from God.

THEN WHY DOES IT FREAK ME OUT SO MUCH?!

I have been thinking about that. I have many examples of relationships that I would never want to have. Sometimes I think that subconsciously I would rather omit the whole idea of being in a relationship to avoid having a bad one. It is easy for me because relationships have never been a huge thing for me. You could say that it was my dad's fault. He always said that I was not allowed to date until I was done with my schooling. It was never really my thing. 

School. Sports. Church. Ministries. Singing. Family. Friends. Reading. 

Those were my things. That is what I spent my time doing. When other girls were going on dates, I was perfectly pacified sitting at home reading a book or having a rousing discussion about politics/current affairs/theology/education with my dad. I obviously had my crushes but nothing so big that I was going to pursue anything. I didn't feel that I needed to. I had a wonderful father and grandpa in my life that told me every chance they could that they loved me and how beautiful I am. I felt loved so much at home that I didn't need to search for it other places. Thus was born my independence. 

Independence. Freedom. Making your own decisions. Loving what you are doing. Loving who you are in Christ. That's the thing, though. Loving Christ is a commitment that stretches me on a daily basis and with which I will never be perfect. 

But it is a commitment that I love the most in my life. 

It is the one that gives me wholeness. It gives me clarity (well, most of the time, haha). It gives me peace. It gives me understanding. It gives me faith. Faith in Christ, that he knows what he is doing. That he knows who to put in my life. That he knows me well enough to put things in my path that will bring me closer to him.

I'm not one of those ladies who will say that I don't need men because Jesus is my boyfriend, but being in a relationship with Christ that will fulfill all those things that I have been longing/hoping/wishing/pleading for fills me with joy and excitement (and to be perfectly honest, a little hesitation). This is the commitment that I need to strengthen. It is the one with which I need to continually work. It is the one that scares me the most but it is one that I would never want to do without. Who knows, maybe one day I won't be so weirded out by the word "girlfriend."

Peace and Love,
Celisse

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

I coulda.....well, maybe if I woulda.....

I completely understand how ridiculous and crazy and wrong this is going to sound.

I could have done something. Anything.

I could have stopped my dad from dying in some way. Given him my kidney. Been there more often. Been a better daughter. Something!

I feel like every time I think about my dad, I have this huge burden of guilt that I have been carrying this whole time.

It's not totally unnecessary guilt. I wasn't there when he died. I was off being a good student leader and helping out with a choir retreat. As always, I put work before my family. The one time that it mattered the most for me to be there.

I just wasn't.

These feelings seem to keep getting stronger. It will be 6 years in January.

It's supposed to get easier, right?

I know that I have expressed this before but I miss being special. You know, that feeling that only a dad can give his daughter? The one that says no matter what you do or who you become, you will always be his little girl. The one that gives you the confidence to do anything and supports you in everything. I miss that. A lot. And even more recently.

I know that I talk about it a lot. It's just that this is something that is looming over my head and I haven't been able to get over it or get past it or deal with it or accept it. I can't get it out of my head.

I will never forget my last moment with my dad. It will be forever mine. It's what keeps me going sometimes. And sometimes, it just isn't enough.

I don't know how God is going to sort through this one.

Peace,
Celisse